


A New Christmas Tradition

by SwanQueenUK



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Cunnilingus, Established Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Fingering, Fluff, Lesbian Sex, Married SwanQueen, Once Upon A Time, One-Shot, Oral Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Smuff, Smut, Swan-Mills Family, Swen - Freeform, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwanQueenUK/pseuds/SwanQueenUK
Summary: Festive One-Shot: The Swan-Mills Christmas dinner takes an unfortunate turn while Emma is in charge. Will the day be ruined or will the family start some new Christmas traditions? Very definitely NSFW (NSFF - Not Suitable for Family)!





	A New Christmas Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Happy Christmas everyone. For all of you who have retreated from your families to relax in the world of SwanQueen fan fiction or don’t celebrate this holiday, welcome! Here’s 4,500 words of sickeningly cute Swan-Mills Family fluff followed by some very explicit and graphic smut. 100% not suitable for work (NSFW) or not suitable for family (NSFF) … Enjoy!

There were three things in the world that Emma Swan was sure of.

Firstly, she knew her family meant everything to her and she would die to protect them.

Secondly, she knew that smoke billowing from the oven was not a good sign.

And finally, she knew that her wife would not see the funny side of her latest culinary mishap.

Turning the oven off, she hurriedly pulled the scorched turkey and the smouldering potatoes from the plumes of smoke and dumped each roasting tray on the side, swearing under her breath. The windows were throw open, the cold Maine air rushing into the kitchen as wisps of grey unfurled into the crisp morning beyond.

“Damn,” Emma said as she turned around and surveyed the mess before her.

Tentatively, she approached the food. The potatoes were inedible, of that she was sure. There was no way she was even going to be able to cut off the burnt bits because there was simply too much charred, blackened and still smouldering potato.

The turkey looked pretty much destroyed too. To say the skin was crispy would have been an understatement. And the flesh below had been seared so severely that all moisture had evaporated, leaving only dry, browned meat.

As she looked at the meal before her, the edge of the paper chain which had been carefully pinned around the entire kitchen fluttered downwards, landing in the saucepan of carrots which were bubbling over. Emma turned off the stove, fished the paper out of the orange water and leaned against the counter.

Christmas was ruined.

She glanced at the clock and noted that she had only ten minutes before her family was due back. There was nothing to be done but begin to clear up.

* * *

“Henry, can you please take Yasmin for me,” Regina called over her shoulder as she battled with the straps keeping the car seat secure.

Her son complied, scooping his sister into his arms and then up onto his shoulders as his mother removed the youngest family member from the car. Yasmin giggled as Henry bounced his way up the garden path, only putting the four-year-old down when he reached the porch. The two of them had learned the hard way that walking through the doorway with Yasmin on Henry’s shoulders didn’t end well. Luckily the lump on her forehead had gone down after a few days.

“Now we eat Christmas food, right?” Yasmin asked her brother as he pulled out his cell phone to check his messages.

“Yup,” Henry said. “And then we’ll open even more presents.”

“Yay!” Yasmin said, jumping up and down. “I made you a -”

“No, don’t tell me,” Henry laughed. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

How he had avoided finding out what his sister had made for him, he wasn’t sure. Ever since he got home from college, Yasmin had been bursting to tell her older brother what his Christmas present was. It was sweet how she was so excited about giving as well as the rather healthy dose of excitement she had shown at her own presents from Santa Claus that morning.

Reaching for the door handle, Henry entered his childhood home just as Regina managed to defeat the car seat and remove her youngest son. The moment Henry and Yasmin entered the hallway, however, they stopped dead.

“Ma?” Henry called out into the smoke which hung in the entranceway.

“In here,” came Emma’s reply.

Henry glanced at Yasmin before helping her out of her coat and making their way through to the kitchen. The smell of burning intensified.

“What happened?” Henry asked as he took in the scene he was met with.

Emma was stood at the sink, elbow deep in washing up water. The sides were covered in dirty pots and a large, full trash bag was on the floor.

“Um, there was an incident,” Emma admitted. “Is Mom on her way?”

“She’s right here,” Regina said, rounding the doorway with Nathaniel in her arms. “What’s going on?”

Henry and Yasmin shrunk back. They didn’t think they wanted to be present to see one mother laying into the other. Even Yasmin could tell from the state of the kitchen that they weren’t going to be eating any time soon. And the big bird that looked like a chicken but, according to big brother Henry, wasn’t one, had disappeared.

“Gina, I’m so sorry,” Emma said, pulling off the sudsy gloves and moving tentatively towards her wife. “I got a call from the station and I thought it would just be a quick one so I left everything cooking. By the time I got back, it was too late to salvage anything.”

Regina scanned the kitchen, eyes lingering on the trash bag which she now knew contained the turkey she had ordered weeks in advance. The smell of burning had hit her the moment she stepped over the threshold and she knew, instantly, what had happened.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Well, I guess I left the heat on the oven too high and then I forgot to turn the stove off altogether so the carrots were just orange mush and -”

“No, not in the kitchen,” Regina interrupted. “The call. Who needed the police on Christmas Day?”

“Oh, that,” Emma said. “Well, it wasn’t so much a job for the Sheriff as the Saviour. A magical portal opened in the woods and some blood-sucking pixie creatures were popping through. Luckily it was a full moon last night so Ruby came across it on one of her runs and called Dad as soon as she transformed. He did what he could without me but he needed my magic to seal the portal. But it took me a little longer than we thought and then there were a few escaped pixies to deal with.”

“You sealed a magical portal by yourself?” Regina asked.

Emma nodded slowly. Was it just her or was Regina focusing on the wrong event of Emma’s morning?

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Ruby got bitten but she’s fine. Dad had a couple of scratches.”

“And you?”

Emma shrugged and held up her hand. Until then, Regina hadn’t realised it was bandaged. She crossed the kitchen to inspect it. With Nathaniel carefully balanced in one hand, she waved the other to remove Emma’s dressings. And gasped.

“Emma! Why didn’t you call me?” Regina asked as she took in the nasty gash across the blonde’s palm, already puffy and red from some sort of magical infection.

“Call you while you were at church?” Emma said, eyebrows raised. “Regina, today is the only day you insist on being Christian. I bailed out years ago but there was no way I was going to interrupt your one religious tradition with the kids.”

“Emma,” Regina sighed. “You were hurt. You needed me. Of course I wanted you to call me. Henry, take Nathaniel please, I need to heal your mother.”

Henry, who had been loitering in the corner with Yasmin, came to take his baby brother from Regina and then ushered both his siblings out into the living room. Doubtless there was some Christmassy film he could entertain Yasmin with while his mothers worked out what to feed them.

Looking at Emma’s wound from several angles, Regina gathered all she needed to know to heal her wife. She looked up into Emma’s face to check she was ready and then set to work. Emma hissed as her skin knitted itself together, the pale purple smoke swirling around her hand as Regina worked her magic. Ever since the two women had got together, over five years before, the brunette’s magic had displayed in an increasingly light shade of purple. It was bordering on lilac now, Emma sometimes teased.

But now was not the time for teasing. When Regina had finished, she took Emma’s newly healed hand in her own and checked her handiwork.

“All done,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Emma’s hand. “Do you feel ok? Pixies can be poisonous.”

“These weren’t,” Emma said. “Dad recognised them. Said they had a nasty bite but weren’t deadly.”

“Good,” Regina said. “But let me know if you start to feel strange. I don’t entirely trust David’s identification of magical creatures.”

“I will. Thank you. And I’m sorry,” Emma said again.

“Sorry for getting hurt or sorry for burning Christmas dinner?”

Emma gulped. “Both, I guess. But I meant the dinner. I’m so sorry, Gina, I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I shouldn’t have left the food. I shouldn’t have volunteered to cook at all. We both know how bad I am when it comes to cooking. I’m sorry I -”

“Emma, stop,” Regina said. “Stop apologising.”

“For getting hurt or for burning Christmas dinner?”

Regina couldn’t help but smile. “Both,” she replied. “There is no need to apologise for getting hurt. You were saving others in the town from yet another magical attack and I’m proud of you for doing that. But you should have called me and I would have come and helped you. Perhaps then no one would have got hurt. And as for the dinner, that’s probably my fault for leaving you in charge. I should have just done it when I got home from church.”

“I’m forty-two,” Emma pointed out. “I should be able to cook a Christmas dinner by now.”

“Yes but I think we’ve established you can’t,” Regina said, taking Nathaniel from Emma who had started to whimper and pout, both signs that he was hungry. “I should have known better than to leave you with such a responsibility.”

“Yeah, which I massively failed at,” Emma said. “I’ve ruined Christmas.”

“No,” Regina said, stepping forwards and kissing her wife lightly. “No you haven’t. You saved Storybrooke from a Christmas overrun by evil pixies.”

Emma cocked her head. That was true, she supposed. But in doing so, she had destroyed her own family’s Christmas dinner.

“Let me feed Nathaniel and then I’ll see what we have in the fridge. I’m sure I can come up with something,” Regina said, moving into the dining room, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Emma followed, partly because she didn’t want to spend any more time in the still smoky kitchen and partly because she enjoyed watching her son feed. It didn’t take long for Regina to open her festive shirt, a present from Emma that morning, and unclip her bra. Nathaniel began to feed at once, eagerly sucking at the heavy breast presented to him. Despite the events of the morning, Emma smiled at the sight.

Gazing lovingly down into her son’s face, Regina brushed the dark hair from his forehead as his eyes closed. For eight months old, Nathaniel had a lot of hair. It was a rich brown, just like Regina’s, but his eyes were distinctly Emma’s, in shape and colouring. Their daughter, however, was pale blonde with chocolate orbs just like Regina’s. There was no question who the parents of either child were.

“How was church?” Emma asked after a while.

“Good,” Regina said. “It’s nice to go once a year. It reminds me of my parents. Yasmin was very good although Henry had to distract her with a few toys during the Sermon. Nathaniel slept right through.”

“Maybe I should have come with you,” Emma mused, reaching for a muslin on the table (the house was littered with them) and handing it to Regina as milk dribbled from their son’s mouth. “Then I wouldn’t have ruined Christmas.”

Regina wiped the milk from Nathaniel’s cheek and sighed. “Emma, honey, you didn’t ruin Christmas.”

“I ruined Christmas dinner,” the blonde pointed out.

“Well, perhaps,” Regina conceded. “But to be honest I’m not a huge fan of turkey and you, Henry and Yasmin refuse to eat Brussel sprouts. It’s not like Nathaniel is missing out. He would only have had a few mashed up vegetables and some gravy. I only make Christmas dinner because it’s tradition. Perhaps it’s time the Swan-Mills start a new Christmas tradition?”

“Like what?” Emma asked, her spirit lifted at the realisation that she wouldn’t have to eat sprouts.

“Christmas lasagne?” Regina offered. “I’ve got everything I need for that in the cupboards and it doesn’t take long so we can spend more time together as a family and with our children rather than slaving over a hot stove.”

“Too hot, apparently,” Emma quipped.

Regina laughed. She surprised herself and Emma at how unfazed she had been by the disaster she had come home to but perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. She really wasn’t a huge fan of Christmas dinner and she knew her children wouldn’t be disappointed by the change of menu.

“Come on,” Regina said. “Let’s see where the others have got to, tell them the new food plan and then get on with cooking it, so we can open our presents.”

“Why are you so keen to open presents?” Emma asked.

“Perhaps it’s more about the giving,” Regina offered cryptically.

She was almost surprised Emma hadn’t found out about her gift that year. The blonde was not the most patient and had been caught on more than one occasion trying to identify presents under the tree. She had also been known to browse Regina’s amazon account for past purchases. The moment the confirmation emails for Emma’s present that year had arrived, Regina had hurriedly deleted them. Just in case. It seemed, judging by Emma’s current excitement levels, that Regina had managed to keep her gift a secret.

* * *

As predicted, Henry and Yasmin were more than ok with the lasagne plan. The two women left them and Nathaniel in the living room before returning to the kitchen. Emma tried to insist she should clean up because she had made the mess but Regina merely waved her hand and the destructive scene of Emma’s cooking attempt disappeared. And with that, so did any mention of the calamitous meal. With Regina leading, the couple prepared the lasagne. Most of Emma’s duties involved cutting vegetables or preparing the salad to reduce the risk of another ‘incident’.

Once in the oven, the mothers returned to their children. Henry and Yasmin were playing a board game, Nathaniel perched on his brother’s knee.

“Presents?” Yasmin asked as soon as they entered.

“Yep,” Regina said, taking her usual seat with Emma right beside her on the couch. “Do you want to hand out the gifts to everyone?”

Yasmin nodded and got up at once, heading over to the tree and rummaging around, pushing other presents out of the way until she reached the one she wanted.

“Henry, I made this for you,” she said, thrusting a badly wrapped and lumpy looking package into his hands.

“Thank you, Yas,” Henry said, passing Nathaniel to Emma before pulling his sister into his lap instead and circling his arms around her so he could open the present in front of both of them.

A bright blue, knitted sweater fell from the paper seconds later and Henry held it up in surprise. “Yas, this is awesome! Did you really make it all by yourself?”

“Yep,” Yasmin said proudly. “Ma taught me a new spell and helped me.”

“There may have been some magic involved,” Emma admitted. “But she did choose the colour and cast the spell herself.”

“Thanks kiddo,” Henry said, hugging her tightly. “You’re my favourite sister.”

“I’m your only sister,” Yasmin pointed out.

“Well, true but you’re still my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite brother,” Yasmin said.

“What about Nathaniel?”

“He poops too much and cries all the time,” Yasmin shrugged. “Can I come and live in New York at college with you?”

“Do you want to help me do my homework?” Henry asked. A button nose wrinkled and blonde curls bounced as Yasmin’s head shook. “Then you’ll have to stay here with your noisy, poopy brother, I’m afraid. Maybe that big square present covered in reindeer paper over there will help.”

Yasmin scrambled off Henry’s lap and headed straight for the parcel her brother had pointed out. Ripping the paper off, she squealed as she exposed a toy kitchen set.

“Now I can learn to cook!” she exclaimed.

“Are you sure she’s mine?” Emma murmured to Regina who chuckled.

“Fairly sure,” Regina nodded. “Since I was there when you gave birth to her.”

“Oh yeah,” Emma mused.

They had decided Emma would carry their first child, being younger and having previously carried Henry to term. The magic they had discovered which allowed them to get one another pregnant was powerful but they were not sure whether it would have reversed the effects of the infertility potion Regina had taken all those years ago. Nathaniel was living, gurgling proof, however, that true love conquered all and had been a welcome addition to the family earlier in the year.

As Henry and Yasmin started up an imaginary cooking game, Regina headed for the tree, under which presents were still piled high. She too searched for a specific package before returning to Emma.

“What’s this?” the blonde asked as Regina passed her an envelope.

“Open it and find out,” Regina said.

“I thought you already gave me my presents,” Emma said. The two mothers had exchanged stockings with one another at the same time their children had opened their Santa deliveries.

“This is an extra gift,” Regina said.

Emma slid her finger under the flap and opened the envelope. Reaching inside, she found several pieces of paper. Tickets, she realised, and a booking confirmation.

“A holiday?” Emma asked.

“I thought you deserved one,” Regina said. “In fact, I think we both do.”

“Paris?” Emma gasped, taking in the details on the ticket. “I’ve always wanted to go to Europe.”

“I know,” Regina said.

Emma turned to her wife and beamed. “Thank you. I love it,” she said, kissing Regina soundly. “But what about the kids?”

“I’m taking care of them,” Henry piped up, having tuned into the conversation half way through.

“For a week?”

“He’ll be fine,” Regina assured the apprehensive looking blonde. “I taught him to cook, remember?”

Emma scowled and Regina chuckled. “What about Nat?”

“I can express enough milk for a couple of bottles a day. We’re moving him onto solid food anyway so one week won’t be a problem,” Regina said.

“A week in Paris with my wife,” Emma said slowly. “And no kids.”

“For the first time in four years,” Regina nodded.

Emma’s eyes darkened and she leaned towards the brunette once more. They kissed until Nathaniel began to grumble, squashed between them in Emma’s arms. If either Henry or Yasmin noticed the embrace, they didn’t say anything.

The lasagne timer went off before any more presents could be opened. The family’s afternoon disappeared into eating, a visit from Snow, Charming and Neal, more present opening and then an evening of snacking, chocolates and wine. Nathaniel had been put down at his usual time, the festivities not making any difference to his schedule. Regina had relented and allowed Emma to dress him in his Christmas pudding onesie and had to admit he did look quite cute. Yasmin finally fell asleep in front of the television shortly before nine and Henry carried his sister to bed.

With the events of the day catching up with them, Regina and Emma left Henry watching a Christmas film on television and retired earlier than usual. Well, Regina was tired and looking forward to sleep. Emma had one more gift to give her wife but had decided against placing it under the tree. She didn’t want to scar her children or her parents with an insight into their relationship. So while Regina was in the bathroom, Emma placed the wrapped box on her pillow and slipped under the duvet on her own side of the bed.

“What’s that?” Regina asked, the moment she stepped out into their bedroom.

“Open it and find out,” Emma said, echoing Regina’s words from earlier.

The brunette crossed the room and sat on the bed, reaching for the well-wrapped box. She raised an eyebrow at her wife who grinned cheekily. It wasn’t the first time she had gifted Regina something less than child friendly and waited until the evening to hand it over.

“Don’t we have enough?” Regina asked. “The lid doesn’t even shut properly on the chest in the wardrobe any more.”

Emma shrugged. “Can you ever have too much variety?”

Regina conceded that point. It was nice to have a choice. With that in mind, she unwrapped her gift, keen to discover what Emma had decided their collection was missing. Her eyes widened.

“Emma, it’s huge,” Regina said, opening the box and allowing the item to slide into her hand. “And glass,” she added, feeling the coolness of the material.

“It’s big, I know,” Emma said. “But I know how much you enjoy being filled. I’m sure if I take my time it will fit no problem. Plus,” she reached for her bedside table and pulled out a bottle, “I got this.”

“Lube,” Regina said. “Think you’re not up to the challenge without a little help?”

Emma’s green eyes darkened at once. “So you want to try it?”

Regina nodded. “Of course,” she said.

Grinning, Emma reached to take the glass dildo from Regina’s hands before pulling her wife towards her. They kissed heatedly, both women suddenly not tired at all as their tongues met. It didn’t take long for their pyjamas to end up on the floor. Regina cast a silencing spell over the room so their love making didn’t disturb any of their children. Emma was already cupping Regina’s sex, feeling the moisture already gathered there.

“Wet already,” she murmured, kissing Regina’s neck.

“Not wet enough,” the brunette replied.

“Let’s see about that.”

Disappearing beneath the covers, Emma kissed her way down Regina’s body, pausing at her chest to nip and lave at her breasts. She was gentle, however, Regina’s nipples still tender from feeding their son. She peppered kisses over Regina’s stomach where the stretch marks lay, invisible in the darkness beneath the sheets but there. Emma loved them; they were symbols of the life they had made together.

Soon, her face was buried between Regina’s legs, tongue lapping eagerly at the already slick centre. She loved the taste of her wife and moaned as she circled Regina’s entrance, probing inside. Her tongue was quickly replaced by two fingers as her mouth moved up to focus on Regina’s clit. She pumped steadily, scissoring her fingers to stretch Regina wider as she licked and sucked her tender nerves.

Above the duvet, Regina was crying out in delight. She loved the fact that they didn’t have to worry about their children hearing them and she could be as vocal as she liked when it came to their love making. And with Emma, it was hard to be quiet. She shuddered as Emma added a third finger, widening her still more as her tongue worried over her clit. She could feel her first orgasm approaching but was sure it was not going to be the last.

Sure enough, Emma licked her through the first crest and kept going, three fingers now sliding easily in and out of Regina’s cunt. Slowing the movement slightly, a fourth joined them. Regina gasped.

“Ok?” came Emma’s muffled query.

“Yes, don’t stop,” Regina said, her hips rocking forwards, encouraging Emma to move.

The blonde complied. Her fingers pumped again, the tight walls gripping her as she moved in and out. Once she was confident Regina could take her, Emma returned her mouth to the throbbing nerves and sucked. With her tongue flickering, her mouth creating a hot and wet vacuum and her fingers stroking against the deepest, most intimate area of her wife, Emma knew Regina was close.

Her channel contracted tightly before she came, Emma’s fingers immobilised for a moment before a rush of liquid burst forth, filling her mouth and spilling onto the bed sheets. Regina screamed as she felt herself ejaculate. It was a rare but intense experience the two of them shared. Emma drank her wife down easily, lapping up all that was offered to her.

“Emma,” Regina gasped, throwing the duvet off her hot body and encouraging her wife up to the top of the bed.

Their lips met in a messy kiss, Regina’s essence shared between them.

“Wet enough?” Emma smirked down at her breathless wife, reaching for the glass phallus which lay beside them.

“I think so,” she said, eyeing the large item. Even after two intense orgasms, she was a little apprehensive. The damn thing was huge.

“I’ll go slow,” Emma said, reading her wife’s expression perfectly.

Regina nodded. “I know,” she said. “I trust you.”

And she did. Which was why she smiled as Emma slid back down the bed, Christmas present in hand, and settled between Regina’s legs again.

She gasped at the first touch, the cold glass a surprise against her heated flesh but she nodded her consent to Emma who pressed the bulbous head against her wife’s entrance. Even with the wetness coating Regina’s core, it was going to take some time. Emma leaned closer and licked around the head, slicking the surface of the dildo where it met Regina’s flesh.

“Still ok?” Emma asked as she pressed a little more firmly.

“Yes,” Regina said. “I’m more than ok.”

Emma smiled and kissed Regina’s inner thigh. The skin was so soft and smooth beneath her lips that she laid her cheek against it as she continued to gently work the dildo into Regina. It took a few moments to work it inside but soon the widest part had been engulfed in Regina’s flesh and Emma could move it in and out.

“How does it feel?” Emma asked.

“Large,” Regina admitted. “But good. Keep going. I want you to go deeper.”

Emma complied, working the cool, hard object further into her wife. She knew Regina would enjoy the sensations but wanted to make sure they achieved that pleasure safely. Before long, however, she had most of the dildo deep inside Regina who was arched off the bed, body tense and thrumming.

“Still good?”

“So good,” Regina gasped. “It’s so deep, Emma. So big.”

“I know,” Emma said, caressing the tender sex, stretched wide to accommodate the new sex toy. “You look so beautiful, baby.”

“Make me come, Emma,” Regina said, propping herself up on her elbows and looking down her body to where her wife was nestled between her legs.

“It would be my honour,” Emma said, lowering her mouth to Regina’s core with their eyes still locked.

Within seconds, Regina was coming, her body overwhelmed with sensations as her wife’s tongue lapped her clit. The glass dildo, hard and unforgiving and so wonderfully deep moved slowly in and out as Emma pushed her pleasure higher, to the point where Regina wasn’t sure she could take any more. And then it was all over and Regina’s body had reached its limit.

The first time Regina had blacked out in bed, Emma had panicked. The second time, she had felt rather proud of herself. The third time was the night they had made Nathaniel. This fourth time, she lay beside the spent woman after she had washed their toy and gently stroked Regina’s stomach, fingers tracing the faint stretch marks. It didn’t take long before the older woman came back to her.

“You made me pass out?” Regina asked, frowning as she tried to remember what happened.

“Consider it your final Christmas present,” Emma said smugly.

“Unconsciousness is a weird present,” Regina pointed out.

Emma laughed. “Well, perhaps, but I think we can both assume you enjoyed it.”

“Very much so,” Regina smiled. “Thank you, Emma. That was amazing. Can we take that particular present to Paris please?”

Green eyes widened in excitement. “Oh, I’m going to have to share your suitcase for my clothes because my entire luggage is going to be sex toys.”

Regina chuckled. “Not a problem,” she said, snuggling up to her wife and reaching down to cup Emma’s so far neglected core. “Now, how about one final present from me to you?”

“Best Christmas ever!” Emma grinned. “Lasagne, more time with the kids, gifting each other holidays and new kinky toys for us to enjoy behind closed doors.”

“I think we have indeed started a new Christmas tradition,” Regina grinned as she slid two fingers into her wife’s waiting heat.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: If there is enough interest, I could be persuaded to write a chapter about their time in Paris… Happy Christmas one and all!


End file.
